


academagia; the making of mages

by akuli



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Family Dynamics, Non-Graphic Violence, Purge SMP, Temporary Character Death, i changed some of the dialogue for dramatic effect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akuli/pseuds/akuli
Summary: Scenes from the Purge SMP.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	academagia; the making of mages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello purge smp fanbase.
> 
> this fic has been in the works for exactly a month now. i saw the lack of content, and i, once again, went fuck it. like most of my works, there's bits i don't like (the entire segment with chilled ned shelby could be so much better) but ultimately, i've become so fixated on this smp that this is partially a way to drag more people in (coughs in please look at the end note)
> 
> thank you to bensie, who i thank every time only because they do so much for me (in this case, being a second opinion for the kroyz & smitty bits)

Brock doesn’t know what he was expecting from today. It wasn’t not this; as soon as Marcel mentioned Tyler, he knew that it would be _loud_ , to say the least. He guesses what he wasn’t expecting was to be so affected.

“ I need to get out of here.”

“ Yeah, I don’t blame you,” Scotty responds with a grimace. He’s taken on the responsibility of dealing out the colors of each team, and from the resignation in his tone, he’s starting to regret taking up that specific responsibility.

Brock squeezes his teammate’s shoulder, an attempt at reassurance. “ Holler at me when we’re ready,” he says, moving past Tay and Kruz, who Scotty is beckoning forwards. The rest are one, big crowd of people that react accordingly to Brock pushing his way through the crowd, fleeting curses of protest and conversation he doesn’t stop to make out. He pushes the door open, and it’s not until he finds himself under the shadow of an oak tree that he realizes he’d been running.

It takes a bit for Scotty to be able to join him. He reads the rules to pass time, and when that becomes too boring, he finds Jordan and Trevor shouting at each other in a mixture of the ever-present chat that hovers just above his hotbar. He bonds with Jordan in particular, because their skill level seem to be evenly matched in the sense that they both don’t really have one. Marcel comes out, pulling Trevor aside to assist him, while Jordan continues doing most of the talking. 

“ Did everybody just go off?” Scotty asks when he finally emerges from the courthouse.

“ Yeah,” Brock stands from where he was idly sitting in the grass. He gets Scotty’s arm looped around his shoulder, because unlike a certain someone, Scotty is happy to accept Brock’s help, “ Marcel got all scary, you know how it is.”

“ I heard that!” Marcel calls over from where he’s pulled Jordan and Trevor aside.

“ You act like I care,” Brock retorts, helping Scotty away from the conversation that’s beginning to get more heated between Trevor, his teammate, and theirs.

Marcel joins them around the corner of the courthouse, under the shadow it casts, looking less tired than either of his companions, but there’s a similar regret in all of their faces, “ Alright,” Marcel offers a hand to Scotty first, “ let’s agree to never do this again.”

* * *

“ You know what everyone would not expect?” Deluxe says, legs swinging idly over the edge of the unlit furnace he’s perched on, “ us living under the courthouse.”

That’s how they end up here, with Speedy extending a hand to his teammate to help them up the hill with a warning, “ be careful someone’s there,” that Side heeds for a little bit at least, swiftly disposing of the creeper near the back part of the courthouse that juts out from the rest of the building. Deluxe, of all of them, is the one to blow their cover, passing by the window, which results in a voice that strikes Speedy initially as creepy as hell. His teammates don’t seem to share the sentiment, rounding the corner, responding to Speedy’s hestiance with the assertion that it’s _Milton_.

“ Look at him, he’s just sitting there waiting for someone to die!” Side’s voice comes through clearly despite the distance that separates them. He’s pulled up the gray bar to pay his respects to Trevor and Jordan who have somehow managed to kill each other, when the response comes.

“ _I’m_ not just sitting here,” Speedy goes completely still, because that _cannot_ be Milton, “ me and my _bones_ are sitting here.”

Speedy comes around the corner quicker than he’d like to admit. Sidearms is leaning against the windowsill, attention full captured by the man inside, to the point that neither of his teammates acknowledge his approach until he’s directly beside them, “ Dude, he’s got an outfit and everything,” he sounds very much like a child, giddy, unbothered delight.

“ What outfit?” The robed man inside, who looks nothing like Milton simply steps off the elevated podium, more gliding over to the window than walking, “ What outfit are you referring to? After all,” he leans in, and his and Sidearm’s faces are only separated by the glass, “ everyone talks about me being in this cultist outfit, what are you doing in that _human_ one?”

“ Good Gods,” Deluxe speaks for the first time, and there’s a nervousness to his laughter that Speedy hasn’t heard in a while.

“ That scared the _fuck_ out of me,” Side confirms, although he doesn’t look away, even when Milton backs towards the podium again.

“ Does he just stay there the whole time?” Deluxe asks, quieter than before, as Milton kneels on the podium, tracing a circle with his index finger.  
  
“ I think he does,” Speedy replies, because he refuses to believe whoever is under the hood of the robe is Milton.

“ Shmeg the Sorcerer is always watching.”

  
  


Before Sidearms can ask, Speedy interjects, “ Should we go back to what we planned on doing?” 

“ Gods, please,” Deluxe responds, and he, at least, is starting to look as distirubed as Speedy feels, grabbing Side’s bicep and pulling him away from the glass, because he won’t move unless it’s by force, leaving Speedy as the one to end a conversation he did not start “ bye Milton! We’ll see you later!” He says, and tries not to look as scared as he feels as Milton turns to him, slowly, in a way that’s nothing short of menacing.

“ It’s _Shmeg_ to you.” 

* * *

Puffer goes to visit the Courthouse alone exactly once.

When he enters, the figure standing on top of the quartz catches his eye immediately. He’s addressing someone by the window, a nametag Puffer doesn’t register, nor cares to, as his attention is completely drawn to this stranger. He stops his leisurely jog down the carpeted floor when the figure suddenly looks to him, walking the rest of the way, and coming to a stop next to the empty seats, axe dangling loosely from his fingers.

“Oh,” His voice echoes, reverberating off the glass and Puffer feels quite small in this place, between religion and something greater than himself. “And who has come to seek the wise tutelage of Shmeg the Sorcerer?”

“Uh,” he says, surprising himself with how awestruck his own voice sounds.“Hi,” Puffer moves to shrug off the iron armor, weathered from when he fell to his death, bowing for no particular reason, more of an instinct than anything.“ I, uh, I actually don’t even really know why I’m here-“

“You’ve arisen for a riddle, have you?” Shmeg finishes his sentence, and Puffer gets the distinct feeling that he’s grinning, despite his obscured face.

“Yeah,” Puffer replies, and he feels as if everything’s moving slower than it should as he takes a step forwards, towards the platform where Shmeg towers above him, “ yeah, I’ve come here for a riddle. I need to find,” He doesn’t remember what he came here for, “ I need to find something.”

Milton laces fingers that look suspiciously close to andensite into a resting place for his chin as he grins down at Puffer, “ I suppose I could lend my services.”

* * *

“ Could I steal you away for a sec?”

Blake looks up from where he was spreading iron and sticks across the crafting table to find Hitch, a hand already extended, a block or two above him, on the same level of the animals.

“ Sure,” Blake’s fingers curl around Hitch’s wrist, and his brother helps him up, although he didn’t really need it. Hitch turns away quickly, crossing the space between where he previously stood, heading towards the jukebox. Jorge is hovering behind him, watching him with a question in the way he tucks his hands into the space between his elbow and ribs. Blake watches with equal curiosity as Hitch retrieves a small, black item from his inventory and pushes it into the slit that he’s never known what the purpose was in.

There is not even a second between when Hitch inserts the disc and a familiar chorus begins to crescendo, only halted by the voice that follows it shortly thereafter. Hitch turns back to them, and he looks _so_ damn pleased with himself.

“ Hitch,” Blake says, incredulously, and Jorge doesn’t say anything, although his mouth hangs open, expression somewhere between wonder and similar disbelief. 

He lapses into the same silence as Jorge. To his credit; Hitch endures both of their non-reactions for a full minute before he moves forwards, towards them. “ Hitch, _no,_ ” Jorge realizes a few seconds too late, and Hitch is able to drag him closer to the jukebox with a firm grip and the carefree line of his smile. When he releases Jorge, the latter doesn’t move away, even as Hitch begins to flail his limbs. He looks ridiculous, but there’s something about the way his movements become less cagey, focused on keeping Jorge where he is, and Blake’s attention to something that looks natural, easy. Blake steps closer, and doesn’t pull away when Hitch reaches out to him.

(None of them are very good at this. Surviving in this kind of world, where death feels like failure, bargaining with people they barely know. Blake resists Hitch’s pull a single time, and then gives in, even if he trips over Jorge’s steel boots. He’s worried about the way Puffer looked at Hitch yesterday, about Friday, about how close to death they’ve gotten already. He does not worry about the way Hitch pulls Jorge in, and how they end up more limbs than people, about the way his lungs strain for air because he can’t stop laughing.)

* * *

“ Hello?” Shelby calls out, hesitant although there is no reason to fear the other teams yet. As the other boat is driven forwards by its occupant, she laughs, recognizing the voice, as faint as it is, calling back in response to her, “ Gods, _Chilled,_ where did you come from?”

“ _I,”_ Her teammate responds, pulling up next to where she’s brung her own boat to a stop, _“_ am going to make you proud,” he takes hold of the oar closest to her again, pushing away, paddling towards the mountains on the horizon, “ _follow me_!”

“ _Chilled_ , wait,” he’s already gone by the time she’s able to get a word in. Shelby’s fingers curl tight around the oars again as she turns herself, briefly, towards the teammate she hasn’t lost yet, “ Ze! Follow us!” He says something that’s decidedly not affirmation in response, and has to repeat it once more before she's able to understand, stopping briefly again to call out, “ I have your diamond sword!” before continuing following Chilled.

“ This _great_ , this is the best thing _ever,_ ” Chilled all but falls out of his own boat in his excitement, catching himself and clumsily ascending the mountain as Shelby steps out of her own, thankful the tide is low and she doesn’t have to worry about the waves stealing away their ride home.

“ I’m excited!” She calls out to him, scaling the mountain with more ease than her companion, “ I think I know what it is, I heard you that whole time.”

“ Keep coming,” there’s an insistence to his words, to the way he shifts from one foot to another to stop and look back at Shelby, sprinting off towards whatever it is that he’s found without really waiting for her, “ follow the kelp.”

“ You left a trail of kelp?” her tone is more cynical than anything, because of course Chilled, of the three of them, would leave kelp as a reminder, “ also, how did you get that gold helmet?” and then, because she’s fairly certain Chilled hasn’t heard a word she’s said, “ Actually, I already know what you found.”

“ _What?_ ” Chilled turns in a full circle just to avoid fully stopping, but he’s not without manners, thankfully, meeting her gaze and walking backwards for as long as he can without tripping over something, “ What do you mean? I haven’t even shown it to you yet!”

“Chilled, buddy,” Shelby picks up her own pace, because Chilled isn’t stopping for her, “ I heard you the whole time you were boating over here.”

“ When I was _what_?”

“ You were talking about what you found the whole time you were boating over here, I was _right_ behind you.”

If there was ever any doubt that someone could hear you and not listen, it’s put to rest in the way that Chilled stops, and then suddenly turns, grabbing Shelby’s hand and dragging her further into the circle of spruce trees, “ Look at that!” he says, gesturing slightly above him to where stone has been hollowed out by as natural means as you can get, “ look what I found!”

“ Oh,” the stone meets another, darker block, purplish in the way that is dark, with undertones of the very place it hails from, and light of the flowers of the overworld, “ okay, that’s not what I expected.”

“ Look what I _found_ ,” He repeats, and Shelby squeezes his hand as a gesture of affirmation.

“ Now, Shelby,” He releases her hands just as suddenly as he took it up in favor of retrieving the tan sack he’s secured across his chest, resting on his back “ I am going give you a gift, because in order to earn respect, one must offer presents,” he looks up from where he’s emptying various items on the ground to meet Shelby’s rather confused gaze, “ is that correct? Is that how this works?” 

“ What-”

“ you didn’t think I would be able to go out here- let me just tell you, Shelby, the few things that happened when I was gone,” Shelby doesn’t say anything, trying to find a coherent thought to put into words, and Chilled takes her silence as enough response after a beat of silence, “ brokered a peace deal with Italians to take out the Irish and the Crew!’

“ What, no, I don’t wanna take out the Crew, they’re nice.” Shelby protests

“ What?” Chilled’s reply is somehow incredulous and flat at the same time, “ no, no, those are the first people I saw, the Italians, those are our people! Our pizones! Our amigos!” all Shleby can really do is slowly blink at him, because he continues without ensuring she’s comprehending what he’s saying, “ and then, and then,” he’s nothing short of shaking with anticipation, “ I found a few things, are you ready for this?” She nods, because she can’t get a word in, “ Shelby, check this out, are you ready?” He goes completely still, swapping out the spruce log in his hand for a shimmering, golden sword he throws down, making a noise as it connects with her boots, “ look at the enchantments on this babdboy,”

“ Look at the enchantments on that,” Shelby picks it up, and the sound that escapes her is, thankfully, not a laugh, “ who’s the champion now? Hm?” She nods in affirmation, tucking the sword away in an empty inventory slot in favor of attempting to bring a hand up to cover her mouth, “ yeah, and then!” Chilled’s gone still again, and she can hear the sound of stone against the more malleable gold tools he offers her, “ you think that one’s good? Check _this_ out,” this time, at least, Chilled is courteous enough to offer her the handle of the golden tool he offers her, “ who’s the champion now, eh?

“ It’s you, Chilled,” Shelby affirms, shuffling her items around so that the sword and hoe are next to each other in her inventory, “ you’re our champion, bud.”

“ Thank you!” He beams, “ and then there was this one, too- did you see the golden hoe? Did you see the enchantments on that one?”

“ I saw!” She replies, taking another sword from him. Bane of Arthropods, from the soft hiss it makes when she lets it slip between her fingers, only to sharply bring it back up by the blade.

“ Mending!

“ Actually, mending’s pretty good,” the comment is more for herself than Chilled, although he’s beginning to look a bit less sure of himself, tugging at the bottom of his shirt that pokes out from underneath his armor.

“ Okay, so,” she’s already turned away when he starts to speak again, looking in the direction from which they just came, “ okay now you’ve gotta tell me-”

“ … I think we might’ve accidentally ditched Ze.”

“- you've gotta tell me what all this means. Also Shelby, there’s an evil upon me, this helmet said curse of binding, I can’t take it off.”

It comes out as a singular, hurried statement that takes a minute for Shelby to be able to register. “ …. Oh, Chilled,” she steps down from the block that made them just about the same height, a hand coming up to take hold of the golden helmet shaped into wings. Curse lashes out at her touch, but she’s been the subject of Thorns before, Curse of Binding is nothing on her now.

“ Can you help me?”

“ There’s only one way, to help you, Chilled,” and from the way he takes a step back, away from her, Shelby assumes he’s already got an idea.

“ I don’t wanna die,” and she has to stop herself from saying _it’s not so bad_. 

“ That’s the only way,” despite her words, Shelby is more than happy to tuck her sword away, “ sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

“ I thought,” his voice goes high and breaks, and Shelby has since given up attempting to hide her shorts bursts of laughter at his antics, “ I was so happy, I thought y’know, I thought we found,” and there’s a flash of gold again as blocks are thrust in her direction this time, “oh, and there’s this too, but I don’t know if you really want that or not, but I found _so many_ -”

“ Are you _kidding_ ,” Shelby’s words come out unsteady, a result of one of those emotions that are a rush of intensity, too much to properly put a name to, “ you show me the golden tools and armor, and you hold on to the _block of gold_ like it's _nothing_.”

  
“ Oh,” Chilled responds, and the indifference in his voice makes Shelby angry, and not kind she’s been toying with the whole day, “ well, I don’t want that. Did you see the golden hoe with mending? It says golden hoe!”

“ That’s going to be so good for our farming,” the resignation bleeds into her voice, as much as she attempts to keep it in the privacy of her mind.

  
  
  


“ Wait, our farming?” Shelby’s offering him the item in question back by the crescent blade when he voices what seems to be a thought he didn’t intend to speak aloud, judging from the way he’s quick in attempting to reassure her, “ oh, yeah, of course,” he laughs, but there’s disappointment in the halfhearted way he uses it to strike the ground, “ of course.”

“ What did you think-?”

“ I don’t know, taking down the enemies?”

“ - you don’t know what a hoe does,” she concludes, “ We should go get Ze, I think we ditched him.”

“ What about the Nether portal?”

“ Listen, that’s cool,” Chilled brightens again at that, “ but I think he’s probably just as lost as I was coming over here.”

“ … _fine,_ ” Shelby holds out her hand for good measure, and before accepts, he falters, and looks up, meeting her eyes nervously, “ oh, um, do I have permission to go off on other expeditions now? I feel like I’ve proved myself.”

“ Uh,” and who is Shelby to say no to Chilled, honestly, especially when he’s looking at her like he’s worried she’ll say no, “ sure, buddy.” 

* * *

  
  


“ What are you doing in our house,” Smitty can hear John’s voice clearly above him, and he stops his work, fingers just barley resting on the hilt of his pick, “ please exit,” Smitty tilts his chin up, straining to hear what echoes down the tunnel, “ and please don’t tell anyone, especially Smit, because he’s gonna fucking kill me-“

“ What’s in it for me?”

“ Oh _fuck_ no,” Smitty curses, turning his attention back to the pickaxe, fingers sliding across the wood, closer to the crescent shape of the head, “ this is literally the worst person for this,” He mutters to himself, stumbling backwards, into the makeshift staircase he made, and promptly scrambling his way up them. 

Noah is leaning against the wall not far from the entrance, and has the _audacity_ to offer Smitty a hand as he emerges. John is shifting nervously on his feet by the furnaces, and who Smitty turns to address, “ fucking, in the name of Shmeg, _John_ -“

“ I’m sorry!”

Smitty turns away from John, attention on the rat that’s infiltrated their perfect home, “ Noah, you _snitch_ ,” Smitty raises the pick in Noah’s direction threateningly, “ you better keep your damn mouth _shut_ -“

“ _Woah_!”

Noah is, once again, a fool with no self-preservation instinct, as he pushes wood into Smitty’s arms, “ why don’t you take these trapdoors and seal yourself in better, eh?”

Smitty looks back to John, “ I’m going to kill him,” he says decisively. 

It’s only by John catching his arm as he moves swiftly towards Noah, and Smitty allowing him to pull him back with an urgent whisper of, “ Smitty, no,” that he doesn’t drive the business end of the sword into Noah’s ribs. He doesn’t sheath it quite yet, though, nor does John release the firm grip he has on Smitty’s arm as Noah speaks.

“ What’s in it for me, huh?”

“ What do you _want_?” 

“ I’ll give you this grass block” John pushes the block into Noah’s arms, and the latter is rendered speechless long enough for John to justify his bullshit offering, “ that’s unattainable. You can read about it and everything,”

“ I have found this kelp from the deepest ocean in the North,” Smitty adds, retrieving the plant from his inventory, pressing it into Noah’s hands once they’re free again.

“ This stuff’s pretty good,” Smitty eyes Noah uneasily, not sure why he’s playing into their joke of an offer.

“ You literally cannot obtain grass blocks once you break them, they just become dirt-“

Smitty doesn’t know _why_ he does it exactly, but he retrieves the water bucket from one of the slots of his inventory and pours it on the floor, yelling, “ Drown him!” Noah makes a panicked noise in response, and somehow manages to slip and fall, soaking the clothes he’s wearing thoroughly.

“ _Smitty_ , don’t _,_ ” John says, although there’s no real conviction in his words.

“ Sorry, I just thought I would try,” Smitty moves to collect the water, but Noah continues to drift towards the one-block hole they’ve made in the corner of the room.

“ Oh, Noah, don’t go down there,” John says, making no move to pull Noah out of the water that’s dragging him down by his ankles, “ we’re gonna have to kill him now,” He says, flatly, and Smitty can’t help but to laugh.

They end up hauling Noah out by his shoulders, propping him up against the wall. He’d not been under the water for long, but Smitty pats his back firmly, helping him choke out what liquid he did manage to inhale. “ You okay, bud?” He asks tentatively.

“ I’m fine,” Noah says, after a beat, legs kicking from underneath him like he doesn’t know how to use them. Smitty helps him to his feet, because it’s the least he can do after nearly drowning him on his first day.

“ So are we gonna be able to keep this a secret?” He tacks on once he’s let Noah’s arm slip from where it was looped around his shoulders. His fingers are hovering over his hotbar, as a precaution, seeing as Noah recovered suspiciously quickly for such a jarring experience, or so one would think.

“ I have a price,” Smitty’s, frankly, a bit tired of taking demands from this man, but he manages to not issue any of the threats he’s tempted to go through with, “ but I could be persuaded.”

“ Let’s hear it, then.”

“ A saddle for my farm.”

“ That’s all?” At some point, John joined them again, and elbows Smitty a second after he speaks, “ I mean, we could probably get around to that eventually.”

“ Okay, well, I’ll be checking in periodically then.”

“ Sure,” John steps forwards to escort Noah out, which is probably for the best, given that Smitty would really like to teach him one more lesson before he up and leaves, “ just make it discreet, you know?”

Noah calls back something he can’t quite make out, but he’ll assume is affirmation, as John has pushed Noah over to the stone wall, carving away at it quickly and ushering him out into the night. John’s barley started to patch up the wall again when Noah lets out a panicked exclamation and Smity finds John stumbling back into him as their home is exposed. Noah calls out to them, asking if they’re okay and John moves to meet him outside with the dirt. Smitty follows him, and _right_ when he’s in the frame of the door, a spider pounces on Noah, and a creeper falls from the hill they’ve built into.

“ John, _get back in_ ,” Smitty hissess, stepping back into the safety of their home, and the creeper explodes, throwing John into the packed dirt wall behind him. Noah’s got a sword out; he’d holding his own fairly well, but John goes to help him regardless, “ just get back in,” He calls out, louder, and his eyes flit up, past Noah’s shoulder, to see _another_ creeper behind Noah, not pulsating in white light yet, but _dangerously_ close. At that point, he loses whatever cool he’d been maintaining, screaming, “ _NOAH_!”

John grabs Noah’s hand and pulls him into his chest. Noah stumbles, and they fall into the hole, and Smitty cringes, because unlike Noah, John isn’t wearing any armor. Nevertheless, John pushes Noah off him, grabbing his wrist this time and helping Noah to his feet, finding a foothold and extending his free hand to Smitty, who gladly hauls the both of them to safety, placing cobblestone behind them hastily to keep the monsters out temporarily. Noah collapses at Smitty’s feet; John, at least, has the decency to take a few steps before his legs give out and he’s forced to lower himself to the ground. They’re all breathing heavily, and Smitty’s worried about Noah the most of the three, but they’re safe, for now.

“ You wanna stay here for the night?” John calls out, although both of them know they’re not letting Noah leave alone

“ Yeah,” Noah responds, his attempt at a laugh coming out breathy and short, “ yeah, I think I might.”

* * *

_“ So it actually is illegal to commit crimes most of the week.”_

Toast hits Tay, because, from what Madi can gather, she kept something of his when redistributing the items lost when he died, accidentally, of course. The armor she’s wearing catches the brunt of the damage he inflicts with the iron sword, but she gasps nonetheless, moving to retaliate. Madi’s sitting on the adensite floor, seemingly content to let them battle it out until Toast begins to back into the hole they’ve hollowed out in front of the surfaces. She stands, accidentally dropping her pick, scooping it up and switching it out with her sword as she moves over to where Toast is attempting to deal any lasting damage to Tay.

They finish him off quickly. Tay is the next to go, because Madi can’t resist, especially given the way Tay’s voice drops immediately after she laughs, breathless and naive. To her credit, Tay inadvertently exacts her revenge; when Toast comes back, she attacks him again, and Madi is the one in the wrong place at the wrong time, because Toast swings his sword in a wide arc that kills her with a single blow. She gets Tay back, of course, in the way Toast did to her, even through the oak gate that separates them. They fight only three more times; when Tay respawns, gathering her things and sprinting outside, across the water, unaware that Madi and Toast have given chase until it’s too late. When she comes back, Toast and Madi’s arms are heavy with the extra weight of her items, and Madi backs herself against the furnaces, sliding raw beef she doesn’t end up retrieving before she goes up against Toast.

“ _Madi_ ,” He swears as she backs him against the fence where the chicken’s tiny, black eyes find them for a moment, “ you are one _salty_ motherfucker.”

“ I see opportunity,” and Toast explodes into a pile of well-worn armor and undead flesh, amongst other things Madi backs away from so that he can collect what’s rightfully his when he respawn, laughing, “ and I _take it_.”

* * *

Smitty’s been in the courthouse in the presence of Shmeg once today. He’s starting to think stealing one of the server’s resident wizard’s only possessions isn’t something worth risking his sanity.

Despite his newfound reservations, this was _his_ idea, so he pushes the door open, pretending he doesn’t feel the way John’s fingers brush against the iron that’s rather heavy on his chest. Shmeg is hovering “ Excuse me,” He makes a point to raise his voice as he walks down the aisle, although Shmeg doesn’t move an inch, “ sorry to bother you, Shmeg, but I heard there was damage done to your great hall, and I thought I could be of help.” The robed figure gives no indication that he’s heard Smitty’s proposal. He finds himself nervously going to justify himself, although, for all of Shmeg’s talk of the People’s Court, he’s only dealt out justice that’s benefitted him thus far, “ repay you for all you’ve done for us.”

“ That would be much appreciated,” Shmeg’s response comes suddenly, making him visibly startle as much as he’ll deny it when John tells Matt about their first day later, “ as for your payment, you will be compensated in the amount of five bones.”

“ That’s actually a pretty good deal,” He says, leaning to the side habitually before remembering John isn’t accompanying him on this specific escapade, one hand going to cradle his ribs to disguise his movement as the lingering effects of respawn, “ uh, I mean, of course, Lord Shmeg, it would be an honor.”

“ Not just _any_ bones, mind you,” there’s a strange pride Shmeg takes in the power he wields, one that’s clear in the way he banishes the bone in front of Smitty as if it’s a treasure, “ Ones that I have _personally_ blessed.”

“ Can I see one?” Smitty continues to surprise himself, taking action in situations in which he didn’t have half a plan, “ I just want to verify,” He adds, because he isn’t too sure of himself yet, “ company policy. You understand.”

“ You can see it in my _hand_.” 

“ yes, but-“

“ Can’t you see my bone, I’m _holding_ it in my _hand_.”

“ Yes, I understand Lord Shmeg, and I don’t mean to doubt your authority at all, but I can’t see it from there,” He taps the frame of his glasses, “ poor eyesight, they tell me,” it’s a lie, but he’s banking on Milton not knowing him outside of one of the “ I’d like to see it in my hand, if that’s possible.”

Shmeg holds Smitty’s gaze for enough time for him to become thoroughly unsettled before he quite literally throws the bone at Smitty. He flinches backwards in surprise, although he’s quick to snatch the item up once his train of thought has slowed, “ here,” Shmeg says it so dismissively it makes Smitty want to laugh. There’s no way for the sorcerer to know what he’s conspired, but it’s ironic, to see him give up one of the only material possessions he considers dear, given what Smitty’s going to do, “ inspect it. See that it meets your,” Shmmeg leans over the edge of the lectern, and Smitty thinks he catches a glimpse of something like a smile underneath the all-encompassing darkness of Milton’s hood, “ _specifications_.”

Smitty turns away from him, halfway down the aisle before Shmeg is able to speak again, “ wh,” and then, louder, echoing due to the raised roof and the broken glass from the earlier proceedings of the day, “ _where are you going with my-_ ”

Smitty slams the door behind him so quickly that his finger gets caught in the space between the frame and the wall. John’s disappeared, but Toast is lingering by the window, “ _run_ ,” Smitty says, grabbing his hand for good measure and pulling the latter along with him, Shmeg’s cries growing fainter as they stumble away from the courthouse, away from spawn.

“ I don’t think he’s happy,” Toast says, almost laughing, but there’s paralyzing fear in the way he doesn’t let Smitty’s hand go. Smitty drags him down the path, grass turned a color that’s too light not to be pretty, but too dark to be gold, turning a corner that almost makes Toast fall with the swiftness of the motion. Toast, upon regaining his balance, looks up, seeing a squat, cobblestone house, and comments, as much as he frames his statement as a question, “ oh, are we hiding out in Noah’s house?”

Smitty doesn’t respond, opening the door and running towards the conveniently placed ladders at the back of the man in question’s establishment. “ Woah,” Noah doesn’t sound nearly as shocked as the word implies. 

“ Noah, don’t ask questions,” Smitty responds, beginning his descent.

“ _woah_ ,” Noah repeats, sounding reasonably alarmed now, although Toast, who is following closely behind Smitty, silences him.

“ Shut up, don’t say anything.”

(It’s a bit of a blur after that if he’s being honest. When he reaches the bottom, there’s four tunnels in the corresponding directions, and he spends at least half an hour trying to decipher which is the right one. He turns a corner and Toast is there, and he, at least, occupies the silence that Smitty’s conjured from concentration. Eventually, he finds the makeshift staircase of stone. John arrives shortly after they do, coming from spawn, although he’s unable to give any insight on Shmeg’s plans for them. He does ask for the bone, which Smitty readily gives. When John hands it back, there’s a name that hovers just above the hotbar, and Smitty laughs before he passes it to an eager Toast, pulling John back, tucking his chin between the part of his chestplate that rests above his collarbones, under John’s jaw. He closes his eyes, and one of John’s hands ends up resting just above his stomach, and he tries to speak quietly, even if Toast doesn’t. Smitty is more grateful to him than he could ever express.)

* * *

The sun’s just made contact with where the blue orchids meet the violet of the sea when a hand clasps around Marcel’s shoulder, and Scotty moves to sit with him, “ how’s our fearless leader holding up?”

Once Scotty’s legs dangle over the edge as well, Marcel relaxes, and they end up with Scotty’s chin not quite resting against the top of Marcel’s head, the latter, respectively, with his back pressed against Scotty’s chest,” it could’ve gone worse, all things considered,” He responds, and Scotty’s noise of affirmation distracts him from his thoughts, for a moment, because of how it reverberates where bone meets the natural helmet that is his skull,” we’ve got a lot to fuckin’ do.”

“ Gods, don’t remind me,” Scotty groans, and Marcel grins, “ there’s _already_ holes in the courthouse.”

“ Idiots,” He replies, but there’s affection in the word, “ we’ll deal with it after Purge.”

“ Do we have a plan for that, by the way?” It’s a question, but Scotty doesn’t say it like one, “ I was meaning to ask, but-“

“ Don’t worry about it,” He cuts Scotty’s remark short, and makes an attempt to elbow Scotty’s ribs, a motion his friend is able to avoid with much less effort that Marcel is putting in, and that earns him a bruised thigh instead, “ I’ve got some things I’d like to do, but it’s honestly a test run for the future, y’know?”

“ Yeah, that tracks,” Scotty replies. The lapse into silence, to the point that Marcel genuinely starts to fall asleep until Scotty shifts and he forces himself back into consciousness, blinking as Scotty speaks, “ I’m gonna go in a bit. Is there anything you need before I do?”

“ Nah,” He says, although there’s a part of him that wants to ask Scotty to stay. Brock’s long gone, and he doesn’t have the same connection as he does with Tyler and his team with anyone else who’s chosen to linger for another few hours. He refrains, though, because this server isn’t Scotty’s whole life. They both have other responsibilities, and the adrenaline rush is beginning to wear off for him now too, the exhaustion fully setting in, “ I’m gonna stay on for a while, scout out a place for a more permanent residence,” There’s a boat tucked away in his inventory, and he lifts his head so that he can look across the water for a second before turning his attention back to Scotty, “ thank you, though.”

“ It’s no problem, Marcel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment and kudos if it pleases you, of course 
> 
> here's the important part of the end note; i've started a discord for purge smp enjoyers! this will be my first time properly moderating a discord, so bear with me, but i thought it might be nice to have a place for the fans to interact (read: yell mindlessly) here's the link: https://discord.gg/sKESSHWMDz
> 
> i don't know what else to say other than i hope you enjoyed :)


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